


Set in Stone

by tryxchange



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Awfully suspicious, Chevalerie wrote the first speculation about the Flamels and the Philosopher's Stone, Gen, In 1612, It's a pseudonym, Yes that's Perenelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryxchange/pseuds/tryxchange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petunia is frustrated with her nephew and her own inability to care for the boy. She drops him off with the mysterious old Chevalerie couple, and hopes that they can give him a better life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set in Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I am not from anywhere in the British Isles. This has not been Brit-picked, although if anyone wants to give it a go, please let me know!

"No," said the old woman, shutting the door in Petunia's face.

The boy next to her fidgeted. He was too young to be standing outside for very long this time of year, especially in an oversized tee-shirt and ratty overalls, but he had already learned not to complain about his discomfort.

Petunia, on the other hand, acutely felt her own discomfort. She didn't hate the boy, not really, not yet. Rather, she both loved and resented him, and the resentment was winning. It had been growing for two years now, and last week she'd been horrified to watch herself actually put the child in the cupboard under the stairs for three hours while she and Dudley had their tea and watched a nature programme on the telly. She was just so tired, of the unnatural things he was starting to do and of splitting her attention. Her son was her son, and Harry was Lily's, and hadn't Lily gotten enough attention all their lives? As soon as the show was over, she'd gotten Dudley to lie down for his nap and started making discrete inquiries.

Now, here they were at the unprepossessing, out of the way cottage of A. de la Chevalerie (and wasn't that just the sort of name that her lot would have), and Mrs. Chevalerie had shut the door in Petunia's face without even listening to one word.

Petunia knocked again. If there was one thing she knew how to be, it was persistent. She kept knocking until the woman poked her head out again.

"Mrs. Chevalerie, please," Petunia said stiffly, before the woman could retreat. She stuck her foot in the gap in the door for good measure. "I talked to your husband, and he told me to bring the boy to your… charming… home."

Mrs. Chevalerie sniffed and looked down her short nose at Harry. "We don't take boys," she said finally. She turned back to Petunia. "If only he were a little girl," she added without inflection, "perhaps we could come to an agreement." She started to shut the door again, but Petunia's foot was in the way.

"Perhaps we could speak with your husband?" Petunia gritted out.

Next to her, Harry tugged on the leg of her trousers. He usually knew better than to try to touch her.

"What?" Petunia snapped, rounding on him.

Or her. Harry's hair was suddenly quite a bit longer, and he was holding onto a ridiculous little dolly with painted pink circles on her cheeks. 

Petunia edged away from him. Swallowing her disgust, she returned her attention to Mrs. Chevalerie. "There, you see? A little girl."

The old woman's sparse eyebrows rose. For a second, Petunia thought she was wavering. Then she scowled again. "Too short," she said, eyeing Harry.

Harry obligingly got a little taller. His face was pinched and he clutched the dolly a tighter.

Mrs. Chevalerie was ignoring Petunia entirely at this point. "Not enough green," she suggested.

Harry screwed up his face and then his skin turned green. He swayed.

"I see," said Mrs. Chevalerie. She didn't look happy, exactly, but she wasn't pushing the door closed on Petunia's foot anymore either. "You'd better come in."

Petunia heaved a sigh of relief and took a step forward.

"Not you," Mrs. Chevalerie snapped. "The child. You will stay outside. You may, if you wish, wait, or you may return to your home. If the child is not acceptable, it will be returned to you in three days. Goodbye." And now she had shut the door in Petunia's face, and somehow Harry was on the other side of it. 

Petunia blinked at the shabby little cottage. She lifted a hand and rubbed the back of her neck. After about five minutes, she went back to her car and started the drive back to Little Whinging. 

"There, Lily," she said irritably to the steering column as she backed out of the muddy drive. "I've done my best for the boy. Now it's up to your lot."

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this, in a very haphazard and lackadaisical kind of way. Updates will be intermittent and are not guaranteed.


End file.
